"At my age, I have been right enough times to be unafraid to speak up and wrong enough times not to be offended if someone tells me "You are an idiot." Hat tip to Dennis Gorman, Esquire: Raconteur, Renaissance Man, Curmudgeon, and Dear Brother In Christ
Copyright 2010, 2011, 2012, 2015 by Michael R. McCarty

13 July 2016

ALL ROADS LEAD TO STANBERRY

I have always enjoyed Garrison Keiler’s reports from “Lake
Woebegone, Minnesota, my home town….where all the women are strong, all the men
are good looking, and all the children are above average.” Perhaps it is because I come from a family of strong women
and from a little town that—a lot like Lake Woebegone—has an almost mystical
hold on those of us lucky enough to know and love her. I’m not sure that Stanberry, Missouri is a “town
that time forgot,” but there is no doubt in my mind that it is a little town
that “memory cannot improve.”

The McCarty Family was one of the founding families back in
September, 1879. My Dad and his brothers and sisters were born and raised there
by James Marion and Gertrude Margaret Kurtright McCartyMy Mom was raised there from the time she was
in fourth grade because my grandfather, William Bertrand (“Bert”) Kennedy--who
was employed by the Wabash Rail as a Superintendent—and grandmother, Mary
Theodosia Goodrich Kennedy, chose Stanberry, as the place to raise their
family.

My Dad was the eldest of 11 children; nine of them survived infancy. He went to war from Stanberry and after, in my eyes, he won the war, he came back home to the heartland. Even after he
joined Eastern Airlines in 1953 and moved us to the St Louis area, Stanberry
was always home. My brother and I spent every
summer from 1954 until I entered OCS in 1966 in that dear little town.

Yesterday, the matriarch of our clan, my Aunt Mary (Mary
Kathlyn McCarty Harris) passed away in Wichita, Kansas. Aunt Mary is the last of her generation to leave us. I won’t be the only member of Clan McCarty traveling back to
God’s country in the next day or two. If you want to find Stanberry, just follow the traffic. On Saturday, we will all go to St. Peters for
Mass and then gather at Mount Calvary Cemetery—on the hill where we have
gathered so often in its two resting grounds—to say “so long.” That’s
the good thing about our faith—we don’t say “Goodbye.”

Long ago, my Uncle Charlie, "Mr. Stanberry," coined a phrase, a slogan, that has for his children and his nieces and nephews, and their progeny become almost gospel to us. If "Home is where the heart is," then tomorrow, I start for home. It is an easy trip, you see, for as Uncle Charlie taught us, "ALL roads lead to Stanberry."

About Me

I am, first and foremost, a child of God, saved by His Grace through His Son, Jesus. I am father of 8, including my four little Angels who are waiting with the Master who loves the little children) , and grandfather of the two smartest and most photogenic grandchildren in the world.
And to quote Lee Marvin, "once, by God, I was a Marine."
I am an admirer of all sorts of fire arms. I consider the Second Amendment to be the guarantor of all of our other constitutional rights.
I think there ought to be a Constitutional Amendment outlawing the Designated Hitter and the insane practice of awarding World Series home field advantage to the league that won the All-Star Game.
I am kept safe and well-shepherded by Ava T. Dog.